


Sé quién es.

by hemisphaeric



Series: Love - Building on Fire. [4]
Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemisphaeric/pseuds/hemisphaeric
Summary: “It’s not that I didn’t want to do that before,” -he swallowed and kissed the other man’s collarbone softly- “But I was scared”“Of me not kissing you back?”
Relationships: Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Series: Love - Building on Fire. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784398
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Sé quién es.

They reached their safe hiding spot after parting from the rest of the gang and Martín felt like he could finally breathe again for the first time in days. He entered the house first, relieved to finally be safe but still on edge, Mirko standing right behind him, a long sigh escaping his lips as he let the bags fall to the floor. 

He tapped him on the shoulder lightly, smiling as Martín turned to face him. Martín stared into Mirko’s eyes and his breath caught in his throat, the strangely assorted mixture of feelings finally emerging. The stress and fear that had been piling up over days in the bank seemed to leave Martín all at once and he started shivering, losing control over his body completely. He threw himself at Mirko, hiding his face in his neck. He had never cried so openly in front of anybody, not since Andrés had left him and even then he had felt so stupid and pathetic. Andrés had tore him open in half, yet Martín had been the one who felt guilty for showing such a ugly and weak side of himself.

“ _Tranquilo, tranquilo Martín_ , it’s all over now” Mirko was different, so much different, he didn’t tell him to hide his feelings, he didn’t make fun of his tears nor did he tell Martín to man up and just stop crying already. Instead, Martín could soon hear Mirko’s muffled sobs mixing with his own as they held onto each other tight.  
Martín realised his cries had turned into a stream of whispered _“I’m sorry”_ as he clung to Mirko’s back.  
The moment felt monumental to him, he couldn’t grasp the fact that Mirko would want to be with him after everything he had done. After every ounce of sharp hot pain he had caused him to feel, he still chose to escape with him. Mirko had seen through him in a way that had made Martín feel exposed, raw and open.  
_‘Lo he sabido desde el principio. Sé quién es’_  
Mirko’s hands reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears pulled Martín out of his own thoughts, staring into those pained blue eyes somehow soothed him, the sudden wave of intimacy submerging him completely.  
“Let’s just leave everything here and go take a nap”  
Martín nodded and moved forward in search of the bedroom, Mirko following right behind him.

They both stripped down to their boxers and sneaked under the covers, immediately finding their place next to each other, close but not touching.  
The space between them seemed infinite and Martín couldn’t stand it for long. He reached his hand out to cover Mirko’s on the bed and sighed in relief as he wasn’t pushed away.  
“Mirko”  
“Si?”  
Martín got closer, joining their foreheads before breaking the distance and placing a chaste kiss on the other man’s lips, his heart thumping in his chest as he realised Mirko was kissing him back. Their lips met in a series of tiny, innocent pecks that rocked Martín’s world completely for the wave of tenderness they sent spreading through his body. By the time Mirko’s tongue had gently breached the barrier of Martín’s lips, he was breathing so heavily he had to stop to regain himself.  
Mirko understood him, of course he did, and once again he just cupped his face and kissed his forehead.  
Martín moved even closer, his head coming naturally to rest under Mirko’s chin. “It’s not that I didn’t want to do that before,” -he swallowed and kissed the other man’s collarbone softly- “But I was scared”  
“Of me not kissing you back?”  
His voice betrayed him as he choked down a sob and when he couldn’t answer, he felt Mirko’s arm coming up to hug him tightly, their bodies pressed together.

Martín woke up with a pounding headache, disoriented as he tried to make out where he was and whose beard was tickling his nose. The immediate feeling of being trapped eased into comfort as the heaviness of Mirko’s arm around his hip grounded him. So much time had passed since he had allowed somebody that kind of intimacy, he got completely lost in thought as he started remembering his years at University, his then boyfriend Matías sleeping beside him in the small single bed; he had felt so safe and content. At least until he had found the guy fucking another man in that same bed. Martín’s mind flew back to crashing in the same bed as Andrés after a fruitful robbery or just a long day of planning; he recalled waiting for him to fall asleep just to stare at his face as he held his breath, the act itself of watching Andrés without him knowing feeling almost too powerful to handle. One time he had felt bold enough to reach out and trace the thin line of Andrés’ lips with the tip of his almost trembling finger, his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest. Back then, he never thought one day he would have known the taste of those lips or the exact texture of Andrés’ tongue which was still painfully imprinted on his memory. 

Mirko stretched beside him, forcing Martín out of his reverie, the dear old waves of sadness still lingering at the corners of his brain even as he focused on the man snoring softly at his side. He wondered what life was going to be like with Mirko, how long it would have taken him to get tired of Martín and just leave him to rot away like the despicable being he was, that ugly, greedy creature he had become. He felt a sudden wave of burning hot rage as he thought once again about Andrés, the man who had turned him into that; an invisible, tightening hand clutching his heart as he realised that he could have so easily fallen in love with Mirko. He may have been already harvesting those feelings since their time in the monastery and Martín just then grasped how agonising it would have been to part from Mirko and his soft, understanding eyes. He could just try to enjoy it for as long as it may have lasted. 

He traced the purple marks on Mirko’s neck, his eyes filling with tears as he felt the heaviness of the guilt he had been carrying. Mirko should have left him behind way sooner, he should have left him to die alone in the Bank, he shouldn’t have ran away away with Martín who was just going to cause him suffering and pain.  
For a moment there, he thought about leaving, saving Mirko from everything he was, the ugly creature who could only cope through heavy drinking brought on by the self-hatred he had been embracing for years now. Martín didn’t want Mirko to witness those things. 

“Mh good morning” the whispered words almost startled Martín, Mirko’s hoarse voice making him forget his ideas about leaving, all the valid reasons he had gathered in his head dissipating with Mirko’s words, his warmth. He could have grown used to this kind of intimacy, hell, he knew craved it; it was going to hurt like hell when the other man understood how disastrous Martín was and finally left. But Martín himself was a masochist so he just let Mirko hug him closer.  
“I didn’t want to wake you up” he moved his hand away from Mirko’s neck, knowing he had overstepped his boundaries and disturbed the other man’s sleep. 

_‘You’re such a fuck up’_

The thing was, Mirko was able to surprise Martín with every small, meaningless action. “I don’t mind, I was enjoying that” and with a gentle hand to his cheek, he guided Martín’s face up to his eye level, his gaze shamelessly dropping to his parted lips in a sort of unspoken question. He moved in slowly and Martín’s brain short circuited as soon as Mirko’s chapped lips touched his.  
Martín was hungry for those lips, he turned feral, biting back a strangled moan when their tongues touched, the scratchy texture of Mirko’s moustache heightening every sensation and creating a satisfying contrast with the smoothness of his tongue and lips and _‘Oh god what I’ve been missing’_  
He pushed Mirko to lie on his back so that he could be on top, interrupting the kiss to rub both his cheeks on the deliciously thick beard, little groans dying in his throat as he revelled in the pleasure of being _so close_ and enjoying every little sensation.  
Martín felt almost scared of looking into Mirko’s eyes, scared of breaking the spell of such a sheer, raw moment, afraid of being seen as a needy bastard just for the way he devoted himself to the man under him. He was letting himself go completely, openly showing his desire, his needs and it was spine-chilling like jumping head first in the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

The kisses along the scar on Mirko’s neck were so tender and unexpected that they actually caused the man to growl low in his throat as his hands roamed down Martín’s back, his fingers finding their way on his asscheeks, joining their groins with a deliciously sharp movement. Martín’s heart jumped when he felt how hard Mirko was, his arousal spiking up a notch with that knowledge, his kisses turning into licks and bites along the rough skin of Mirko’s neck.  
Mirko pulled him up again, claiming his lip with his own possessively, making up for the lost kisses Martín had denied him back in Italy what seemed to be years before, in a completely different life.  
Martín dared look up into Mirko’s half-lidded eyes and the man grinned at him as he ground himself up against his already painfully hard cock, Martín’s mouth agape as pleasure irradiated from his lower belly all over his body; Helsi took advantage of the moment to flip Martín over and move to kiss his fabric-clad cock.  
Martín’s broken moans started filling the room as Mirko sucked him off, pushing his hips down against the mattress, completely in control of his pleasure.  
“Shit I’m so close” Mirko hummed appreciatively, the delicious vibration in the back of his throat almost pushing Martín over the edge, his eyes snapping open as he pulled the other man up and whispered against his lips, “Helsi, fuck me now” 

And he complied, frantically kissing Martín’s neck and chest as he worked him ready before easily slipping inside him, loud groans escaping their mouths in unison. Mirko started moving slowly, his eyes meeting Martín’s to make sure he was okay, that he wasn’t hurting him and smiling when Martín moaned and nodded, his legs circling Mirko’s waist to push him deeper.  
The last time Martín had allowed a man to face him while fucking had been years before, it had been Matías, his first love, the first man he had dared open up to when he still believed that maybe, despite everything _‘Somebody could still love me.’_

Mirko sped his hips up slightly as he folded forward to cage Martín’s shoulders with his strong arms, his lips only a breath away as he whispered hoarsely “Stop thinking, Martín”.  
Martín nodded again, a single tear escaping his left eye as Helsi’s soft stare brought him out of his reverie. He felt Mirko’s warm hand on his cock and his hungry lips on his, simultaneous waves of pleasure suddenly hitting all over his body, allowing himself to melt completely under heartfelt kisses and rhythmic thrusts. 

They lay leisurely on the bed, Mirko half sprawled over Martín, softly kissing his neck and shoulder while the other man was on the verge of dozing off. This time, he didn’t jump straight out of the bed to clean himself up, nor did he even think about doing that; there would have been time for self deprecation later, he couldn’t really do that while Mirko was kissing and cuddling him like he was the most precious thing he had ever touched. Something had switched inside him yet he couldn’t process the exact implications of it while being high on endorphins, every fibre of his body singing in unison with the warmth Mirko’s body was conveying.  
Martín turned his head a little to focus on the satisfied smile of the man beside him, “You really are a teddy bear,” he felt Mirko’s warm laugh on his skin and he couldn’t help but smile back, his hand coming up to stroke Mirko’s arm lazily. “Is that why you got the bear tattooed?” 

“Kind of, I felt like it represents me and,” Mirko took a deep breath and turned more serious, “every tattoo has a meaning or a memory linked to it,” -he placed a little kiss on Martín’s lips, his eyes piercing and expressive and Martín understood there was so much more he wanted to say and so much Martín wanted to discover about the man- “nothing is random.”

And in that moment Martín started to believe it, with the kind of blind hope characteristic of an act of faith.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a long time because I really wanted it to have the right vibe, I love introspections can you tell? :)
> 
> @Jesus Colmenar I'm free any day if you want suggestions for s5.


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